She put her hands on her hips. “More dangerous for me than for you?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Callan spoke calmly, but just mentioning the possibility that something might happen to her was difficult. “I didn’t bring you along for this.”
“You didn’t bring me along. I brought myself along. And as I recall, we wouldn’t have been here if I hadn’t pulled my weight. That’s who I am, Callan. I pull my own weight. And I’m going to do it now or you’re going to have a fight before you walk out that door.”
Looking at her, seeing the determination on her face, Callan knew she meant what she said.
“You didn’t give me a choice about becoming part of this at the beginning, so now I’m not giving you a choice about how your part is going to go at the end. If you go straight on at Mott and his crew, innocent people are going to get hurt. Not just Daniel. Those people inside that building are going to become targets, too. Unless we can contain them.”
Callan folded his arms and waited. “So what’s the plan?”
Chapter 20
If you’d have had more time, you could have come up with a good plan. Or at least a better one. Because this is so not a good plan. Eryn walked to the front of the gentlemen’s club and smiled at the thick-necked bouncer standing there. Prison tats showed above the shirt collar.
“I’m Aruba.”
“Aruba.” The man stretched the name out, smiling slightly. “Lovely name. Lovely lady. Nice to meet you, Aruba.”
“I’m here about the job.” Eryn unfolded the printout she’d made of the ad she’d found online. Black Dice was looking for dancers, which hadn’t been a surprise. Most erotic dance clubs were looking for new blood all the time. Dancers got mad and quit, got arrested, got stoned or drunk and didn’t make it in. Turnover was high.
“Shantell ain’t here.” The bouncer gave Eryn a long look from top to bottom. “Won’t be in till ten.” He checked his watch. “You still got about an hour and a half to wait.” He smiled. “But she’ll like what she sees when she gets here. We have similar tastes.”
“Good to know. Nothing like a vote of confidence from someone with taste.” Eryn forced a smile onto her face. The guy’s heavy-handedness was off-putting, but the danger she was stepping into was even more of a buzzkill. She looked hopeful. “Maybe I could wait inside. Save me from taking a cab two ways and killing time somewhere else. I can also talk to some of the other dancers. Find out about the clientele and shifts.”
That was a strategy a lot of dancers and restaurant servers used. Getting a job wasn’t the goal of those people. Getting a good job was. That meant finding out how good the tips were, when the peak business took place.
“Sure. Go on in.” The bouncer leaned back and opened the door for her. “My name’s Frankie.”
“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Eryn turned and walked into the waiting lobby, then to the club room beyond.
“There’s a guy just behind the door, too.” Eryn had let her hair hang down and it covered the Bluetooth earpiece she wore.
“Armed?” Impatience vibrated in Callan’s voice.
“Yes. Hip holster.”
Like the first man, the second also had prison tats. He followed her with his gaze, stripping her with every step. Eryn ignored him and worked on describing the club and the people to Callan.
The club only had one stage and it was on the east wall, to the immediate left of the main entrance. Despite the fact that Vegas was a twenty-four-hour town, the morning business was slow. The dancer on the stage moved at a halfhearted pace and the three guys sitting on pervert row seemed more interested in their beer and conversation than the woman.
The bar was opposite the stage. A heavyset bartender leaned against the bar with a towel thrown over one shoulder. His attention was focused on a small television behind the bar that was showing ESPN. One of the men Eryn recognized as a member of the suspected kidnapping team sat at a stool at the bar and watched television as well. He poured himself another drink from a bottle sitting in front of him.
“One of Mott’s crew is at the bar. To the right of the entrance.” Eryn walked past the bar and headed down a small corridor on the right that advertised bathrooms.
At the end of the hallway was a door with Office written on it. The bathrooms were on the right, and another door marked Dressing Room—Dancers Only was just past them.
On the left side of the hallway, an emergency door opened onto the alley behind the building. A panic bar locked the exit tight. At the end of the hallway, men’s voices rose in strident yells that wasn’t quite covered by the loud music crashing from the big room.
“Callan?” Eryn took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah. Just get clear, Eryn. This is what I do. I don’t want you hurt.”
“I don’t want you hurt, either.” Eryn crossed to the emergency door and took out the battery-powered screwdriver she’d borrowed from Callan’s kit. The panic bar had hex screws instead of Phillips. She switched out the bit and started unscrewing the alarm cover. She barely managed to keep her hands from shaking so much she couldn’t do the job. The loosened screws spilled through her fingers to the floor and she let them go.
Less than a minute after she started, she was inside the alarm system. It was just like several of the others she had helped install during her repo days. The recovery agent had moonlighted installing security systems, and she had learned a lot.
She shoved the screwdriver in, popped the battery backup out, then cut the power supply line. With the alarm system disconnected, she leaned a hip into the panic bar and opened the door.
Callan stood outside in the bright morning sunlight. His jacket lay at his feet. The guns at his hip and under his left arm looked wicked and dangerous. He held a cut-down pump-action shotgun in his hands. His face was hard and implacable, and the aviators covered his eyes. He wore a Kevlar vest. Despite all that, she knew he was vulnerable.
“Get clear. Now.” Callan strode into the hallway and headed for the office door.
As she watched him, Eryn’s heart trip-hammered and blood rushed through her head. Fear that she was going to lose him in the next few minutes rattled through her no matter how hard she struggled to put them off.
Before Callan reached the office, the door opened and one of the kidnappers stepped out, dragging Toby by the handcuffs the man now wore. The hulking man took in Callan at a glance, released his hold on the cuff chain and reached for the large revolver at his hip.
“He’s here!”
Released, Toby dropped to the floor. Blood stained his face. Whatever had gone wrong inside the room had quickly turned violent. He saw Callan and cowered.
Callan raised the shotgun to his shoulder as the kidnapper’s gun cleared leather. “Drop it!”
The kidnapper kept bringing his pistol up. Callan fired and the shotgun blast hit the man in the chest and drove him back into the office. He tripped over Toby and sprawled loosely onto the floor. The bloody mess on his shirtfront offered mute testimony that he wasn’t getting up again.
Eryn saw at least three men inside the office. One of them was Dylan Mott. She recognized the other two from the pictures they’d found of Mott and his crew.
All of them pulled out weapons and in the next instant bullets raked grooves and chewed holes in the hallway walls and ceiling. Eryn dropped down to a kneeling position and took a two-handed grip on her pistol.
Callan never broke stride as he walked toward the office and fired round after round into the room. Wooden bookshelves on the wall behind the desk exploded in a rush of splinters and spilled a haphazard stack of receipt books and journals to the floor. More buckshot punched holes through the desk.
One of the men hid behind the door and shot around it. Callan adjusted his aim and fired again. The tight spray of buckshot tore through the wooden door and slapped the kidnapper backward. Another shotgun blast struck the man again as he fell. His body drape
d over Toby’s legs.
Still moving, Callan dropped the shotgun and drew one of the pistols. He went forward, totally merciless. Looking at Callan, Eryn had a hard time remembering this was the man who had talked gently to and about his sister. The man who had made love to her just a short time ago. At the moment, there seemed to be nothing left of that man, and the ease that he could so efficiently erase that softer side scared her.
One of those two sides, warrior and lover, had to be more true than the other, and she didn’t know which it was.
Another gun went off behind Eryn. Surprised, she realized that she hadn’t been watching Callan’s back. The kidnapper who had been sitting in the entertainment area had come around the corner and had opened fire. He stood in a wide-legged stance with his pistol up in front of him.
There was no hesitation inside Eryn as she swiveled around and brought her pistol up. She aimed instinctively for the man’s center mass, just as she’d been trained, and she fired immediately.
The man staggered and went down with a surprised look.
Pushing herself up, Eryn stayed low as she went back to the man. He was motionless, eyes closed and she didn’t know if he was alive or dead. Panic and guilt thrummed inside her, but she worked past it and focused on her need to survive, her need to protect Callan. Gunfire still crashed behind her. She took the man’s weapon.
Beyond the corner of the hallway, the few patrons were beating hasty retreats with a skill that showed experience. No one else was coming toward the hallway.
Eryn retreated toward the office. Callan had stepped inside and the fusillade of shots died away. Her heart was in her throat till she eased past the door and spotted Callan peering through a shattered window. He was inserting a fresh magazine into one of his pistols.
The bodies of three other men lay on the floor. None of them was Dylan Mott.
Eryn met Callan’s gaze. “Mott?”
“Still on the loose. But not for long.”
Glancing around the room, Eryn saw that someone else was also conspicuously absent. “Where’s Daniel?”
Callan shook his head. “Not here.”
The statement hammered Eryn. If Daniel Steadman wasn’t in the office, where was he?
Callan moved back to Toby, but he was talking to Koenig. “Do you have eyes on Mott?”
“I do. I temporarily own the eyes of this city.”
Stopping at Toby’s side, Callan surveyed the man.
Toby lay on his back with a fearful expression. “Callan. I’m glad to see you. These guys were going to kill me.”
Callan pointed his pistol at Toby’s face. The man tried to draw back and sink into the floor, but it wasn’t working for him. “Where’s Daniel?”
Toby shook his head. He mewled in fear. “I don’t know. I swear. I don’t know. I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Watch him.” Eryn holstered her weapon and knelt down to go through Toby’s pockets. Honestly, she believed he was innocent. He was too simple to get involved in the kidnapping. But he knew something that he wasn’t telling them. She was certain about that.
She took out his wallet and his cell. She pulled up the recent calls and found they were all to the same person: Sierra. Eryn remembered that Sierra was Toby’s sister. She touched the information control and the window filled with Sierra’s statistics.
The most telling thing was the picture. Sierra Ballard was a beautiful young woman. She had striking red hair that Eryn found memorable. She held the phone up to Callan, displaying the picture of Sierra Ballard. “Callan.”
He made the connection at once. “Your sister is behind this.”
Toby spoke quickly, frantically. “Sierra was never able to get over the way Daniel dropped her for Jenny. From the time she was little, Sierra always said she was going to marry Daniel.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know she was involved. I didn’t think she’d do something like this. This is crazy. I didn’t have a clue.” He swallowed and his heart pumped at his throat. “Not until you told me about the keycard. Sierra could have borrowed it and I wouldn’t have known.” He closed his eyes and lay back.
Koenig broke in. “Dude, we’ve got a problem.”
Callan relaxed a little and pulled the pistol out of Toby’s face. “Yeah?”
“The timetable on the ransom delivery has been changed. The call just went through to the Steadman’s number.”
“When is the ransom drop?”
“Now.”
Eryn tried to process that. “I thought the Steadmans were waiting on the money.”
“It’s after nine, dude. Banks have been open for a while. Steadman the father pulled out all the stops and got everything lined up. They’ve got the money ready to transfer.”
Eryn’s hopes rose for just a moment, then she remembered what Toby had said about his sister. Sierra wanted Daniel. She’d persuaded Dylan Mott to take part in the kidnapping, probably by dangling a big payday in front of him.
She looked at Callan. “Sierra won’t kill Daniel. Not if what Toby says is true.”
Callan shook his head. “Sierra’s not calling all the shots. She never was. Mott’s not going to leave a lot of witnesses behind. He’s going to clean house before he pulls his vanishing act.” He stepped over Toby and headed back into the hallway.
Eryn followed.
Chapter 21
In the hallway, Callan picked up the shotgun, holstered his pistol and started reloading the twelve-gauge. He pushed through the side door and picked up his jacket before heading for the Challenger parked only a short distance away. His blood throbbed in his veins. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to see if Eryn was still there. Her footsteps pounded after him.
“Koenig, do you still have Mott?”
“I do. He can’t escape me now. I am righteous wrath and I will be on him as long as you need me to. He’s headed toward the Strip. But we’ve got another problem, dude.”
“What?”
“I tapped Jenny’s phone to keep an eye on her. She’s one of the variables in this mess. Standard operating procedure. Nothing personal.”
Koenig was wrong about that. This was all personal. Callan pressed the electronic release on the locks, opened the door, and halted. He looked at Eryn and tossed her the keys. “You drive. It’s your city.”
She caught the keys in midair and slipped in behind the wheel as he raced around the car.
“What about Jenny?” Callan slipped the seat belt into place as Eryn put the car in Reverse, burned rubber backing up and shot out of the parking lot in a tire-eating shriek.
“She’s in play.”
“She’s not at the hotel anymore?”
“No, dude. She left. Just now. She’s in a car.”
“Why?”
“Girl detective, can you hear me?”
Eryn pulled to a stop at the light. “Yes.”
“I’m downloading a tag onto the car’s GPS. The triangle shape is Mott.”
“You can do that?”
“GPS system in that car has special modifications, and I am who I am.”
Eryn took the next left and sped up. The acceleration pushed Callan back into the seat, but he hardly noticed. His mind was on Jenny and the fact that she was probably headed into danger. There was only one reason she would leave that hotel, and that was to go to Daniel.
“Toby’s sister got to her, dude. I just heard the conversation between them because I’ve been busy watching over you. She told Jenny that she knew where Daniel was, and that she needed to come with her if she wanted to see him alive again.”
A huge knot formed in Callan’s gut. He gripped the shotgun hard and worked to keep calm. “This wasn’t about Daniel, Koenig. This was about my sister. Sierra is going to kill her and stage it to look like she rescued Daniel. She might be in the kidnapping for part of the money, but she’s definitely in it for revenge against Jenny.”
“That’s the way I read it, too.”
Eryn reached across and put her h
and on Callan’s arm. She squeezed gently. “It’s okay. We can do this. She’s going to be fine.”
Callan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He cleared his mind of the pain and doubt. Eryn provided an unexpected anchor and he took strength from her presence. Then he opened his eyes and focused on the streets.
“Take me to them.”
Eryn didn’t know if Callan’s growled order was for her or Koenig. She started to draw her hand away, but Callan dropped his hand over hers briefly and looked into her eyes. “Thank you.”
“No prob. It’s going to be okay, Callan. They can’t beat us.” She smiled at him and hoped she wasn’t lying through her teeth. Then she concentrated on her driving, speeding up more and hoping that a patrol car didn’t fall in behind them to try to pull them over.
She followed Mott’s triangle down the Strip and across it, whipping by the Tropicana, Excalibur, MGM Grand, Planet Hollywood, Flamingo, the Mirage, Circus Circus and took a hard right onto Fremont Street that sent pedestrians crossing at the light sprinting for cover. They were headed toward the Fremont East District. A parade of bars and clubs lined the area.
There were enough small businesses in the area that someone wanting to get lost could do exactly that.
“Okay, people, you should be within sighting distance. Mott is in a bright yellow Camaro. Guy doesn’t go in for stealth. He’s stopped a quarter mile ahead of your position.” Koenig’s voice was calm, steady.
“What kind of car is my sister in?”
“Black Lexus sportback, and it’s registered to Sierra Ballard. That car should also be visible.”
Eryn scanned the street ahead while dodging through traffic. She spotted the Camaro at the same time Callan did. In the next moment, the Lexus pulled in beside the Camaro.
“Can you throw this car into a controlled slide?” Callan’s attention was riveted on the Camaro.
“I think so.”
“Bring it around in a one-eighty, so that my side of the car is facing Mott. I’m going to get out. You stay with the car in case someone gets the chance to make a run for it.”
Best Man for the Job Page 20
